TuTu is my nickname, since Nana, Grandma, Gramie, really didn't seem to fit.
Tutu is an affectionate name for a Hawaiian Grandmother, and It takes me back to my younger days of living in that wonderful state as a young woman.
This time of the year poses great consternation as I begin prying the youngest of LaLa and Mr.'s tribe for their holiday wish list right after Halloween.
I told them when Lala was a little girl, Tutu had to stand in line for hours to snag a Cabbage Patch Doll, let alone a Furbee. Old habits die hard for a mother when it comes to holiday shopping.
This story seems to be met with wonder. I guess in this day and age it's hard to imagine a world devoid of an empty toy shelf. The truth is, the two tribal lads seem to enjoy experiences over perhaps specific toy items.
Being from the old school, I still want them to wake up to a tree with wrapped packages. I know this wonder will only last for a few more short years so it makes it all the more meaningful to prolong it as long as I can.
So this is how I happened to find myself today, in the aisles of the famous red bulls eye store, attempting yet again to fulfill this year's wish list, having finally extracted it from the young tribal lads.
With the current sales flyer in hand, an empty cart, a cell phone for emergency calls to LaLa, I was armed and prepped for the hunt. ( Did I mention comfortable shoes are a must for a successful search and purchase mission)
Little did I know that all the TuTu's within a 25 mile radius, happened to be on the exact same mission. It must be, that experience over the years has taught us, that certain popular toys will eventually be in short supply as the holidays draw closer.
Experienced Tutu's pound the pavement as soon as they can learn to pronounce the name of the toys. That saves us from the embarrassment of not appearing as knowledgeable as an 8 year old, when God forbid, we have to break down and resort to asking for help. This predicament that has led me to believe, that stores should have kids lined up as shopping assistants beside the carts for those of us less capable of carrying out a successful shopping mission on our own.
It bears mentioning, that I am especially grateful to those companies who have maintained 2 syllable toy names in easily identifiable pink or blue boxes.
Today, I encountered a number of perplexed TuTu's wondering if perhaps they should have been searching the hardware department for the items on their list.
Over time, I have also acquired the ability to spot novice TuTu's among the aisles. The blank stare, fixed gazes, a look of astonishment (mostly after locating the price), all signs of early sensory overload. I have a soft spot for them, and attempt to give them some solace having been there before. By the time we have all reached the toy train aisle we are a tightly bonded group out to give Santa a run for his toy sleigh. I can't help but thinking though, if the tribal lads will eventually remember more what TuTu gave them for Christmas in 2010 or how much fun we all had on the pirate boat adventure during summer vacation. It was probably the homemade bottle rocket launcher that Grandpa Peter made in his basement workshop for them this fall, that will win out over anything on this year's wish list.
So this Thanksgiving, I am especially grateful that the tribal lads have indulged me yet again with a list of preferred selections as I eagerly anticipated my yearly endeavor of a successfully completed shopping expedition before the holiday rush.
In due time, they will have out grown the toy aisle in favor of alternate choices, but just for a short precious time today, they have given me back the memories of when LaLa was a little girl.